Yes, Professor
by Procrastinate
Summary: [Snarry] There's obvious hatred between this angsty adolescent and uptight professor. But there's a certain amount of hatred you can hold towards one person, before it somehow becomes something else.It all begins, one day, in detention...


_**Yes, Professor. **_

**Prologue, **_**In Snape's Class**_

Perspiration dripped from Harry's nose as he peered over the rim of his insanely hot cauldron. He stirred at his strange beige-coloured mixture, frantically trying to make it thicker. His glasses began to slip from their place, as fog blurred his vision. A soft chuckle was heard behind him, followed by the scratching of a pencil on parchment.

"You _fail_ at remembering to put the right ingredients in, Potter. Did you not forget to add _diced,_ not _mutilated_ fig roots?" Snape snarled nastily. "And did you not forget to add precisely 3 drops of bile?" Harry stiffened and turned around, glaring at him. "I did everything by the book. All the ingredients are _in!_"

Snape's nostrils flared. "Now, now, _Potter,"_ He spat, "No need to throw a girly tantrum. 10 points off Gryffindor. Get back to work."

Snape grinned and turned away, prowling the aisles once again, but now with an air of satisfaction. Harry twitched and glared after him. "Bastard…" he muttered under his breath, and turned to his now brown solution. "Forget him," Hermione whispered. "He's just got a stick up his – never mind. Look, your potion's the right colour now, anyway. Just stir it more to thicken it up, and you're done!"

Harry smiled at her appreciatively. "Thanks, 'Mione," he grinned, picking up his ladle and beginning to stir again. Hermione looked back at him, with a bright smile on her face. "No problem, Harry!" she breathed. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and continued pounding at her beetles. "Blimey, how come 'Mione's helping you but not me? Look at my potion, it's as watery as liquid!" Ron complained, spooning up his murky-green fluid, and allowing it to splash back down. It really looked more like river water than anything else. Hermione ignored Ron, and continued to pound at her beetles. Stealthily, she stole a glance at Harry and smiled contentedly. _Oh, Merlin, I really am turning into a fangirl, aren't I?_ She blushed and turned away.

Harry, oblivious to these glances continued to stir his potion, occasionally laughing at Ron's odd comments. But then, he felt a tingle on his shoulder, as a pale hand landed on his shoulder. "I'd prefer if you didn't speak in my classes, Potter. Detention, Potter." Snape whispered silkily into his ear. This time, Harry didn't even try to turn around and glare at him. He just stared into the depths of his cauldron, fuming. "Psst.. Hey, Harry, I reckon you should stop stirring, or it'll get too thick. Snape'll be on your ass if you don't," Hermione whispered, glancing over. Harry snapped out of his angsty trance and turned to Hermione. "Oh, thanks, Mione. Can't wait for tonight," he grinned sarcastically. She giggled. _Such a nice, nice grin._

"Alright, _class_." Snape called. "It's time to test your potions to see if they're actual potions, not –" he stopped, looking at Ron's potion. " – not like running sewage, as shown in Weasley's cauldron. 5 points from Gryffindor for not paying attention, Weasley." Ron turned a furious red. "Stupid git," he muttered under his breath. "A further 5 points from Gryffindor for talking back," Snape snarled sardonically as the Slytherins began to laugh. "Nice going, Weasel," taunted Malfoy.

"Ah, let's see. Let's try yours, Potter. Perhaps you were lucky enough to somehow correct your potion," he began. He produced a dropper and a small snake from within the depths of his pockets and retrieved a sample of Harry's potion. He forced the dropper into the mouth of the snake and watched maliciously as the potion slowly dripped down its throat. Suddenly, limbs popped out of the snake's sides and it instantly became a warped variety of a lizard. Instantly, it slithered away on its new hind legs, scuttling into one of the dungeon's many holes.

"Well, I see the Limb Regrowth potion seemed to have worked," he remarked, glaring at Harry. "But the next time Granger tries to seduce Potter, the way to go is not to simply _instruct_ him. No, I think he'd like it better if you made it for him. Perhaps next time, _Granger._" His eyes flashed nastily as the bell rang. "I'll be seeing you tonight, Potter. 8 o'clock down at these dungeons and no later, or it's detention for you once again. Now get out of my sight, all of you!"

As the class began to file out of the classroom, the Slytherins hooted with laughter, pointing and smirking at Hermione knowingly. "Ah, I knew it all along! Trying to seduce Potter, eh? Perhaps you should take some classes from me, Granger!" Pansy shrieked, wagging her perfectly manicured man-hands in her face.

Hermione's face turned beet-red, and she ran down the corridor, trying to avoid the taunts of the class. Harry advanced furiously on Pansy. "Shut up, you slut," he snarled. "And leave her alone." Pansy's little made-up pug face twisted into an expression of hatred, before storming away. "Trying to protect your girlfriend, eh Potter?" Malfoy smirked, pushing his way to the front. Harry simply ignored him, and walked away, trying to block it all out. He found his way to the common room, as he simply had no more appetite left.

He flopped onto the couch in front of the roaring fire, and stared deep into the flames. _As if Hermione likes me. _He thought, shaking his head. Snape had to stop sniffing potion fumes, or he really would go insane. More so than he currently is, at any rate. He glanced up at the clock, and his brow furrowed in annoyance. There were two more hours until he had to face Snape one-on-one for his horrible detention. What was he going to do to him this time? Make him tidy up the potion ingredients? Oh Merlin, he did that last year and it was horrible. All the disgusting fumes he had to bear almost made him faint.

There was no one in the common room, so he got up and began to pace. He hated Snape for being so .. so damn evil towards him and his friends. What exactly did he have against them anyway? Why did he even hate _him_ so much? _What the hell did I ever do to him? _He thought. Snape had hated him since their first lesson.

Oh, wait. Could it be? Was Snape… jealous of Harry? Jealous of his father? There was a strong possibility. It most probably was that. Harry grinned to himself. He'd confront the overgrown bat tonight, in detention. Suddenly, he couldn't wait for the hours to pass. _That's disgusting_, he thought to himself, but was relieved to realise no one would have heard him.


End file.
